


Little Moments

by Seitou (lady_date)



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I did not intend for this to go this far, I swear English is my first language, Light Angst, Like Barely There Angst, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Not Canon Compliant, Older Pilots, no beta we die like men, probable OOCness, self indulgent as all hell, this is mushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 08:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20336953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_date/pseuds/Seitou
Summary: Trowa and Heero together on a rainy day





	Little Moments

It was one of those Sundays. One of those cool lazy days where the sound of rain and the roll of distance thunder encouraged you to stay inside. Those days when these was little do and even less incentive to get it done. Where outside the world was cold and wet, inside there was little reason to leave the confines of the bed. It was a rare day for Heero and Trowa. 

Their worlds had changed so much since they’d first met, under the harsh pressure of war and trauma and then the nebulous fog that was post rebellion peace. But somehow, between the floating and the soul searching, the two world weary young men had drifted back into one another orbit, pulled in by a familiarity gravity. Now, as they laid curled together on the hideaway bed in Trowa’s trailer, listening to the sound of rain, Heero could believe that he had found peace. 

An echo of thunder passed overhead, rousing the perfect shoulder from his light doze. The room was dark and warm, the only light cool grey coming from the port window above them. There was no telling what time it was, the sky outside obscured by thick clouds. There was a clock somewhere behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he rolled onto his side, closer to the warm body laying beside him. He admired the handsome face he’d come to love and cherish.

They had been young when they met, fifteen years old and the world in tatters around them. They were older now, the signs age and of rough lives lived etched into their skin. A pert nose gently hooked down. Crows feet forming in the corners of his eyes just above the scar. Laugh lines hidden in three ginger scruff three days gone. Once smooth skin now was dotted with old bruises, freckles and sun spot. The tiniest flecks of silver peeking out through the thick auburn mane.

Heero couldn’t help himself. He ran his thumb over the dark scar under Trowa’s eye with a gentleness learned over nearly two decades. His reward was a soft sigh and an arm flung around his waist. He scoot in even closer, sitting up so that his hand could travel the length of his partner’s torso. A slow petting motion from nape to the small of the back. The arm around him tightened, tugging him until the other’s face was pressed into his abdomen. Heero smiled as Trowa rumbled like one of the great cats he was so fond of working with.

“You’re going to spoil me.” 

“Maybe I want to.” He was met with another rumble and a kiss pressed to his bare stomach. Not planning on moving anytime soon then. Heero let his eyes roam over the other’s physique. Over those broad shoulders down the solid line of his back to the powerful legs and bare ass. All though…

“What’s so funny?” Apparently Heero’s derisive snort wasn’t as quiet as he would have liked.

“Nothing. Just a thought.”

“Care you share?” Heero didn’t struggle as he was pulled back down onto the bed, not surprised when Trowa’s wider frame loomed over him, a playful smirk on his lips.

“You won’t like it.” This was met with an amused huff.

“That has never stopped you.” Valid point. 

Rather than answer, Heero let his hand wander over Trowa’s flanks, slowly moving down until the reached hips. Ignoring the curious look he was being given, he kneaded the muscled before caressing the curm of his back, moving his hand in gentle circles until he reached the curve of his butt. The pleased hum turned into startled yelp and a look of utter betrayal. Heero merely brought the half inch long hair into their collective line of sight. 

“I don’t think we can blame Duo the next time the drain gets clogged.” His stomach trembled from the effort to not laughing at Trowa’s affronted expression. It didn’t last long.

Before Heero could react, betrayal turned into determination. The former soldier had no way of defending himself from the following assault. Pinned to the bed by capable hands and a heavy body, Heero could only writhe and squirm as Trowa blew raspberries into his navel. After several minutes of this, there was a pause to catch their breath.

“Take it back?” Through wet eyes Heero glared him down at him.

“Never.” A quick flick of a clever tongue into belly but paid to that idea. Heero would never admit, either as a thirty-four-ish year old or a former gundam pilot, that he squeaked. “You win, I won’t make fun of your hairy ass.”

The circus performer gracelessly flopped himself over the prone man with a satisfied smirk and burrowed his face into the crook of Heero’s arm. “Good.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.” He did. 

Heero started petting the short hair at the nape of Trowa’s neck, feeling himself relax into a comfortable haze. The room quieted down to the sound steady rain on the roof and their own breathing. He could feel the measured thump of Trowa’s heart against abdomen as he basked in the moment. 

He wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed like that, soaking in one another’s presence in comfortable silence. Not even aware of when he’s let his eyes drift close, but when he’s open them again, the sky outside had gone from almost white to dark grey. Day having passed into even without his consent. The sheets beside him were empty, but not cold, and the sound of rain was coupled with the rush from the shower. 

No regard for his naked form, he slid himself to the edge of the bed, frowning at the aches and creakes felt sitting up and standing. He needed to stretch more, but later. Rolling his shoulders pads into the tiny bathroom, not bothering to mask the sounds of his movement. He moves the towel and flips up the toilet lid before taking a seat.

“How do you know it wasn’t Catherine in here?” 

“I wouldn’t have been asleep.” 

Paranoia was not something easily lost, no matter how comfortable and safe. An unexpected noise or presence, no matter how familiar was still enough to spark wariness in the former soldier. Not to mention Catherine’s singing.

Trowa only answered with a low hum of understanding. He understood with was an instinct they shared, learn under similar but different circumstances. Heero was happy he didn’t need to explain himself to the other man. They’d talked of course, curious as to when and where they’d learned various skills, leading to talks about their childhoods. Scars, traumas, hang-ups, all had been laid bare between them as they’d searched for comfort. Where before they never hid before, for a sort of shared nihilism, they now shared for a sense of belonging. 

Finished his business, Heero wiped himself and stepping into the shower behind Trowa, his arms sliding around his waist and his face pressing to the grove of his shoulder blades. His skin smelled of recycled water, irish spring, and something metallic that was unique to the acrobat only. And Heero adored it.

The body is his arms turned and Heero found himself sinking in Trowa’s arms, comfortably cage in strong arms and deft hand with hot water tickling his cheek and hair. He feels when long fingers leave hi shoulds to cup his jaw, leaning into them as the tip his head up but meeting Trowa’s lips half way. 

There was nothing sexual about the kiss, just the soft meeting of lips, but it was one of the most sensual experiences of Heero’s life. Warmth spread through his entire being, until he felt like he was wrapped in it from head to toe. It ended much sooner than he would have liked. 

Trowa pulled back with more brief kiss before stepping out, leaving the hot spray hitting Heero’s chest full force. He watched him towel off in quiet reverence, warmed by the kiss and the water. He watched the gears turn as Trowa looked at the toilet. 

“Don’t you da-” Anymore was cut off by the sound of rushing water and a sharp hiss. Heero pressed himself against the linoleum of the shower stall to escape the sudden blast of cold water, sending a baleful glare at his laughing lover’s retreating form.

When he was finished with his shower, it was completely dark outside. The even rain of day had waned into a light drizzle. Drying off, Heero noticed the bed had been put away and couch folded out its place. The sound of rain had been replaced with low noise of the television, turned more than likely to whatever the local public broadcasting service was. Trowa was seated. only slightly more dressed than before in a pair of well worn sweatpant, and two warm bowls of stew in his hand. He didn’t bother getting dressed, accepting the bowl as it was offered to him as he sat next to the other pressed together, thigh to thigh. 

This silence was more palpable this time, like Trowa was waiting for something to happen, some calamity to occur, for (as Duo would say) the other shoe to drop. Where comforting before, the longer the quiet lasted the tighter it became, suffocating Heero until even the sound of clinking spoons in empty bowls was somehow obscene. 

It was Heero who collected the bowls, stood at the sink and cleaned them. He had a good idea what the other was waiting for, but he’d always been better with expressing himself with action. Words could be muddled, misunderstood, hollow.

Behind him the news anchor detailed the recent peace summit in Sanc that ended the day before, briefly describing some of the security details required for the various world leaders, like Vice Minister Darlin. Heero flicked his eyes to the figure on the couch.

To the untrained and uninitiated, Trowa looked completely relaxed. Chin resting on laced fingers, hooded eyes on the screen. But to those few who know, the anxiety was there. It was was the tightening of his mouth, slight furrow in his brow, the way those hunter green eyes held a sharp edge. Like he was waiting for something to be snatched away, to pounce on the offender and tear them to shreds.

Coming around the counter Heero stood in front of Trowa between him and screen. Still bare, perhaps more bare than he had expected. He stood still, waiting for Trowa to refocus on the present. When those eyes found his, asking so many questions, he knew he could do nothing but give Trowa completely honesty.

“I’m done Trowa.” 

He realized he’s said the wrong thing when the hurt say the hurt flash across Trowa’s face, but he held his gaze. Reaching out cupped cheeks, thumbs gently rubbing his cheeks. Long fingers closed around his wrists and he wasn’t sure whether it was pull them away or keep them in place.

“I’m not going back any more. “ It had been the easiest and most difficult decision for Heero to come to. After years of obligation, duty and sacrifice, it was finally time to stop and enjoy his own personal peace. He was tired, he’s more earned his rest. And he had that in Trowa. But there was still a part of him that doubted the peace he’d found with Trowa would last. That the other even wanted it after years of only getting to spend a few months at most together.

He watched the interplay of emotions in Trowa’s eyes from hurt to comprehension, comprehension to understanding, understanding to not joy, but hope.

“So what now?” The quiet way he spoke, just Heero just what the other was feeling. Trowa had been just as scared as he was.

“I stay home.” 

Home to Heero was more a vague notion than a concrete idea. He’s had homes before, of a sort. Places he’s stayed for more than a few weeks, people he’s stayed with for more than a couple months at a time. He remembered the people more than places, but even then the connections felt incomplete. Building could be sold or destroyed, people could die or leave, life was impermanent like that. But for as little meaning as home held for Heero, it meant the world to Trowa, a man who didn’t have a home until he was fifteen years old, a man who had shared that home with Heero repeatedly for nearly twenty years. A man who had come to mean everything to Heero. Trowa was the closest thing to home Heero had felt in a very long time.

Green eyes turned down before Heero could see them get dewy and soft, but he could feel the dampness against his stomach when Trowa pressed his face forward, arms leaving his wrists to pull him in close. He didn’t jump when light kisses were pressed to his skin. He didn’t fight as he pulled him down on top of him, pressing kisses up his sternum as Trowa leaned back. He didn’t smother his sighs as Trowa kissed over his heart and up his neck before letting their gazes meet again. Those green eyes were wet and warm and full of love. Heero didn’t stop himself from pressing his own lips to Trowa’s.

The rain outside had returned full force, muffling the world outside again. They stayed like that, the TV long forgotten in favor of savoring each other. Rough hands caressing scarred skin in languid motions, with a gentleness others would not expect from either of them. 

“You’ll have to put up all my bad habits again.” This was met with a quiet chuckle.

“Can’t be any worse than after Belfast. And this time you can go to the bathroom on your own.” Heero still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up more injured during one mission than he had when he’s self destructed his gundam, but the year it took for him to recover had been taxing for both of them.

“Maybe one of these days I’ll get to return the favor.”

“Heaven help the day I have to let you nurse me back to health.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You burnt canned soup.”

“Would you prefer me or your sister?”

“Is that a trick question?” 

“See if I ever rub your feet again.”

“Damn, but what else are you good for?” Heero pulled back to scowl down at his partner and was met with a playful smirk and warm eyes. 

He missed this. This playful tenderness that was lacking in most of Heero’s life away from the circus, away from Trowa. If could have his way, he’d never had to leave it again. 

Instead of replying he settled himself back down against the taller man, his head on his shoulder as his hand pets down Trowa’s chest. He could feel him stiffen waiting for Heero to retaliate by pluck one of the thick hairs from his chest. But it never came, the hand instead coming to rest on his bare side, rubbing the firm muscle with his thumb. He enjoyed the feel of long arms resting loosely around his waist. Before plucking some of his thigh hair with his other hand.

**Author's Note:**

> In all honesty this started out as a warm up exercise about Trowa having a hairy ass. I don't know how it turned into this, but it did. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
